ログインTwenty-year-old Nora Ale has perfected the art of being the family disappointment—dropped out of university, working as a barista, collecting tattoos instead of achievements. So when her flawless, overachieving sister announces she’s marrying a wealthy tech CEO, Nora braces herself for months of feeling invisible. Then she meets the bride. Celine Hartman is everything Nora isn’t—poised, brilliant, intimidatingly gorgeous. But when Celine’s gaze lands on Nora, it lingers. Too long. Too warm. Too wrong. What starts as harmless tension becomes impossible to ignore: shared glances at wedding fittings, late-night drives neither of them should be on, and messages that read like confessions disguised as jokes. Celine is engaged to Nora’s sister… yet looks at Nora like she’s the one she’s been waiting for. But Celine’s perfect life is built on secrets, and her marriage to Aaliyah is hiding a truth that could blow up both families. As the wedding countdown ticks forward, attraction turns to obsession, honesty becomes dangerous, and Nora must choose between the sister who never truly saw her… and the bride who sees right through her. Forbidden never felt this good. And falling for the bride might be the biggest mistake Nora ever makes— or the only right thing she’s ever done.
もっと見るI never meant to fall for my sister’s fiancée.
But the first time I saw Celine Hartman, she was standing under the soft glow of fairy lights in our mother’s living room, her wedding binder clutched to her chest like a shield. She was impeccable, hair pinned back, heels sharp, blouse crisp. Everything about her screamed control, poise, perfection. And maybe that’s why my chest clenched the second our eyes met.
Her gaze didn’t skim over me as it should have. It didn’t settle on my sister, the golden one, the flawless one. No, Celine looked at me. Really looked. Like she could see straight through the tattoos, the hoodie, the way I’d spent the last two years hiding in coffee shops and late-night walks, trying not to exist.
I froze.
My sister, Aaliyah, was chatting happily, oblivious to the quiet storm between us. I should have smiled, nodded, played my role, the disappointing little sister who didn’t deserve attention, who faded into the background. But Celine’s eyes… they refused to let me fade. They held me there, warm and intense, and something flickered in the pit of my stomach that I couldn’t name.
A slow, forbidden heat spread through me, reckless and dangerous. Every instinct screamed to step back, to pretend I wasn’t trembling under her stare. But I didn’t. I couldn’t.
She tilted her head, just slightly, the faintest curve of a smile teasing her lips. One eyebrow rose, subtle but deliberate. A question? A warning? An invitation? My pulse thudded so loudly I could swear the whole room heard it.
And I wanted her to hold my gaze. I wanted to step closer, even though every rational part of my brain was shouting that this was impossible. She was engaged to my sister, the woman I was supposed to admire from a safe distance, maybe even help plan a perfect wedding for. She was a bride, untouchable. Sacred. Forbidden.
But the air between us sparked like static. My hands itched to brush hers when she adjusted the binder. My mouth wanted to speak words I couldn’t form. My body betrayed me, leaning just a fraction closer than propriety allowed.
For one suspended heartbeat, the room narrowed to the space between us. Just me and Celine, and the soft hum of the party fading into nothing. Every detail was sharp: the faint scent of her perfume, the soft glow on her skin, the way her eyes flickered when she noticed me noticing her.
I didn’t know then that she would ruin me. That she would haunt my dreams, my thoughts, my every waking moment. I didn’t know that every glance after this one would be charged with something forbidden, something intoxicating.
All I knew was this:
The bride shouldn’t have looked at me first.
But God, my chest ached for her to look again and consume me entirely. I wanted her to look again.
The rehearsal dinner had ended hours ago, and the house was quiet, except for the faint hum of the city outside and the soft tick of the kitchen clock. I should have been in my room, scrolling through my phone to escape the ache in my chest, the constant pull of her in my thoughts. But somehow, I found myself wandering the hallways, drawn toward the living room.She was there. Of course she was.Celine leaned casually against the doorway, a glass of wine in hand, her eyes catching the dim light and turning it molten. She didn’t speak at first—just watched me, quiet and deliberate, and my stomach twisted with the ache of desire. Every step I took closer made my pulse hammer, every inch a gamble with fire I didn’t want to escape.“You’re here again,” she said softly, almost teasing, though her voice carried a weight that made me shiver. “I was wondering when you’d sneak out.”I swallowed hard, my throat dry. “I… I couldn’t sleep,” I muttered, trying to sound casual, though my heart betr
The morning after the garden, the apartment felt smaller, tighter, as though the walls themselves were holding their breath. I couldn’t stop thinking about her—the way her presence had pressed against mine, the almost-touch, the almost-kiss. Every detail replayed in my mind, sharp and vivid, setting my pulse racing.I tried to focus on mundane tasks—folding laundry, stacking cups, straightening the living room—but it was useless. Every time the wind brushed my arm or a shadow flickered past the window, I imagined it was her.Then my phone buzzed.A new message. From an unknown number.It’s me. Don’t pretend you didn’t want to stay in the garden last night.I froze, heart hammering. My fingers shook as I typed a reply.You shouldn’t have followed me.I couldn’t stay away. Could you?The response hit my chest like a physical weight, and I couldn’t breathe properly for a moment. Desire. Danger. Forbidden promise. Each word spun through my mind like wildfire. I imagined her leaning agains
The garden was silent except for the soft hum of the night air and the faint rustle of leaves under my shoes. I could feel Celine’s presence behind me before I even realized she had followed. Every step she took made the space between us shrink, my chest tightening with each one.“You shouldn’t sneak around at night,” I said, though my voice betrayed me with a tremor I couldn’t hide.She didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she leaned against the fountain, crossing one leg over the other, her eyes catching mine in the dim golden light. “Why shouldn’t I?” she asked softly, her tone teasing, almost velvet. “Is it because it’s dangerous? Or because you can’t stop thinking about me?”I froze. The words, casual though they seemed, hit me like a hammer. My heart lurched, and I felt the heat rise in my cheeks. I wanted to deny it, to turn and run, to pretend that none of this, this impossible, forbidden, electric pull, existed. But I couldn’t. Not when she was there, looking at me the way no
The next morning, I woke with a strange ache in my chest. Not the usual post-travel exhaustion. Not hunger or caffeine withdrawal. Something else. Something that had begun the second Celine’s gaze landed on me.I told myself it was a crush. A fleeting, stupid, absolutely forbidden crush that I had to squash before it grew into something catastrophic. But as I stretched and ran a hand through my messy hair, I realized I had no idea how to do that.Celine was everywhere. In the kitchen making tea, in the living room checking floral arrangements, even lingering by the staircase as if she had nothing better to do than watch me move through my morning. Every glance, every brush of her sleeve past mine, made my pulse stutter. I hated it. Loved it. Couldn’t stop thinking about it.“You’re awake early,” she said, appearing beside me in the kitchen. Her presence hit me like a warm tide, curling around me, pulling me close without touching. She leaned casually against the counter, one hand crad
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